Moth Flight’s Vision

Chapter 22

Moth Flight lifted her head blearily, not sure if she’d slept.

Dawn light filtered through the trees above. “I forgot about Rocky,” she said, but her voice came out hoarse and creaky. “I didn’t take the bark to him.”

“Reed Tail took it,” Wind Runner’s voice replied. “Rocky’s doing okay. Don’t worry about anything, Moth Flight.”

She smelled Wind Runner’s scent and realized that her mother’s warm flank was pressed against hers. Swift Minnow was on her other side. Moth Flight wondered how long they’d been there. A chilly mist swirled around the forest floor.

Dread swelled at the edge of her thoughts and she wondered, for a moment, why. Then she remembered.

Anguish struck her like a wave. She struggled to breathe.

Micah’s muzzle was still a whisker from hers, cold and stiff.

She blinked at it numbly. Grief had dragged her through the long, dark night. Foxes had screeched from the depth of the woods. Owls had glided, curious, through the glade, the breeze from their silent wings the only clue they had passed. Paws had scuffed the forest floor as cats came and went, dipping their head in respect to Micah, exchanging sympathies in hushed mews.

“It’s time we buried him.” Wind Runner’s mew cut through Moth Flight’s grief like claws.

Panic seized her. “No.” They couldn’t lay him deep in the earth and cut him off from sunlight forever. “I need to see him.”

Wind Runner got to her paws and touched her muzzle to Moth Flight’s head. “Foxes will come for his body if we don’t.”

Moth Flight blinked at her. Why was her mother being so cruel?

Swift Minnow shifted beside her. “Burying him will show our respect.”

Wind Runner nodded. “He’ll be safe in the earth.”

Anguish slammed into Moth Flight. “But what about me?” I need him.

“You still have your family,” murmured Wind Runner.

“And your Clanmates,” Swift Minnow added.

Moth Flight leaped to her paws and glared at them. “I don’t want you!” she hissed. “I want him!”

They exchanged looks, then Wind Runner signaled to some cat with her tail. Gorse Fur padded toward them, with Nettle, Blossom, and Acorn Fur following close behind. The splintered branch had already been cleared away, leaving Micah’s body exposed to the brightening day.

Nettle thrust his gray muzzle beneath Micah’s flank, heaving him onto his back. Gorse Fur and Blossom crowded beside him, helping to take the weight of Micah’s body. Acorn Fur slid among them, pressing her shoulder beneath Micah’s hindquarters. Together, they carried the body from the glade.

Moth Flight watched them wade through the bluebells, the purple blossoms sweeping Micah’s matted pelt.

Wind Runner nudged her gently forward. “Come and say good-bye.”

Moth Flight’s paws felt as heavy as stone as she followed the cats out of the glade. Daylight was beginning to glimmer among the leaves overhead as the sun lifted higher. At the top of the rise she saw cleared earth and a hole dug deep into it. Clear Sky stood at its head, Star Flower at his side. SkyClan gathered around them as Nettle and Gorse Fur paused at the edge of the hole.

Moth Flight blinked at the solemnity in Clear Sky’s gaze.

Didn’t he realize that he’d caused this, with his fox-hearted craving for borders?

Acorn Fur’s eyes were misted with grief. She pressed against Birch while Quick Water, Alder, Fern Leaf, and Thorn stared bleakly at Micah’s body. Red Claw hung back behind

Clear Sky, his gaze fixed on his paws. Moth Flight felt anger flash in her belly, eclipsing her grief for a moment. You killed him! You and your stupid fight! She glanced around, wondering if Willow Tail had dared come.

The pale tabby she-cat was watching half hidden behind

Dust Muzzle. Moth Flight glared at her, anger seething beneath her pelt. “Don’t skulk behind my brother!” she spat. “Come and see what you’ve done.” She jerked her muzzle toward Micah, lying stiffly on Nettle’s back.

Moth Flight felt Wind Runner’s pelt brush her flank. “It was an accident,” she murmured.

“It didn’t have to happen! If they hadn’t been fighting”—Moth Flight glared at Red Claw—“Micah would still be alive.”

Clear Sky caught her gaze and returned it steadily. “Micah died because he was brave. It was a noble death.”

“He didn’t die because he was brave!” Moth Flight stared at him, stunned. “He died because you sent Red Claw after him.”

Clear Sky didn’t blink. “He chose to climb back up the tree,” he meowed simply. “He could have stayed on the ground.”

Moth Flight’s mind whirled. Was Clear Sky blaming Micah?

Star Flower stepped forward, her emerald gaze round with sympathy. “You are angry,” she mewed. “A cat you loved has died. But what is the point of blaming Clear Sky? Or Red Claw or Willow Tail? The tree was rotten. Do you blame the tree?”

“Yes!” Moth Flight’s pelt bristled. “And Rocky’s cough for sending us there! And Clear Sky! And Red Claw and Willow

Tail!” Her thoughts seemed to whirl as rage flared. “And Micah for being so dumb!”

Star Flower blinked at her. “Would Micah have blamed anyone?”

I’m glad I spent this time with you. His dying words echoed in her mind. Shame washed her pelt. He could have hated me for bringing him here… but instead, he was grateful. She felt the eyes of the other cats fixed on her and backed away, grief welling once more in her chest as her anger withered.

Wind Runner brushed her cheek with her muzzle. “Let’s say good-bye to Micah kindly.”

Nettle crouched and let Micah’s body slip from his shoulders. It dropped into the hole with a thud. Clear Sky stepped forward and looked into the darkness.

No! Moth Flight closed her eyes and pictured Micah on the stepping-stones, the river sparkling around him. That night, as they’d curled in their nest in Dappled Pelt’s den, he’d asked her to be his mate. While Dappled Pelt slept they’d planned a future in soft whispers. They’d told each other that StarClan would find a way for them to be together; they could be medicine cats to both Clans, traveling between them, but always at each other’s side.

Moth Flight felt her mother’s flank pressing against hers.

She watched as Clear Sky pushed a pawful of earth into the hole. Would either leader have let them live that way? Would StarClan?

She’d never know now.

Her throat tightened. A wave of sadness flooded her, so strong that the ground swayed beneath her. Wind Runner pressed harder against her. Gorse Fur padded to her other side and pushed his shoulder beneath hers.

Clear Sky lifted his muzzle. “I had doubts about taking Micah in,” he meowed. “When he cured Tiny Branch, I regretted my promise to let him stay. He was a farm cat, sleek from easy living, too sure of himself to be trusted. I didn’t think he had any place in a Clan.”

Nettle nodded. Quick Water murmured in agreement.

Clear Sky went on. “But I was wrong.” He gazed sadly into the grave. “He devoted every thought and every moment to his Clanmates.” His gaze flitted from Nettle to Quick Water. “All of us who doubted him came to respect his intelligence and value his kindness.” The SkyClan cats nodded solemnly.

Star Flower moved closer to the SkyClan leader as he continued. “I respected Micah. He stood up to me. He did what he thought was right, not what would please me. He died doing what he thought was right.” He looked at Moth Flight. “He had to climb back into the tree; he was being true to himself. He died as he lived—caring about others, bravely and without hesitation. We were lucky to have known him, even for so short a while.”

The forest seemed to spin around Moth Flight. She felt Wind Runner and Gorse Fur press closer, supporting her as her paws buckled beneath her.

Clear Sky’s gaze was still on her. “Will you speak for him?”

“I can’t—” Moth Flight faltered. Grief seemed to be tearing her heart in two. The other cats stared at her expectantly. She glanced into the hole, glimpsing a flash of Micah’s pelt where the rising sun’s rays pierced the depths. “May StarClan light your path.”

She blinked, surprised at herself. The words seemed to appear in her mouth and roll from her tongue as though she had spoken them countless times before.

“May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

Murmurs of approval rippled around the other cats.

Moth Flight backed away.

Wind Runner was watching her, eyes bright with worry.

“I’m okay,” Moth Flight breathed. “I just need to be alone.”

She turned and fled back to the glade, skidding to a halt as she saw the scattered remains of the splintered branch. She turned, her gaze flashing wildly around the forest, unsure where to go.

“Moth Flight.” A gentle mew sounded from the trees behind her.

Pebble Heart padded over the rise. “I came to pay my respects.”

Moth Flight glanced past him, toward the grave, hidden beyond the crest of the hollow. “Are they burying him?” She pictured the earth tumbling over Micah’s poor, beautiful, broken body.

“He is safe now.” Pebble Heart stopped beside her. “You should go home and mourn.”

“No!” Alarm jolted through her. She didn’t want to be like Slate, moving around the hollow like a shadow, pitied by her Clanmates. She didn’t want to see her den. Micah had been there. They’d been so excited when they’d remembered the tree bark. Her breath quickened. Rocky would still be there. How could she take care of him? How could she take care of any cat?

Her thoughts tumbled, confused. She’d never be able to remember any herb. Every cat would be depending on her. She struggled for breath.

“Moth Flight.” Pebble Heart’s soft mew sounded through the roar of blood in her ears. “Eat this.” An aromatic scent touched her nose. The ShadowClan medicine cat had laid a sprig of tiny leaves at her paws. “It’s thyme. It will calm you.”

Blindly, Moth Flight leaned down and grabbed the sprig, chewing it as the world seemed to spin around her. Its pungent flavors bathed her tongue, pulling her thoughts away from the spiraling terror that filled her mind. Slowly she felt her heart begin to slow. She blinked, the blurred bluebells brightening around her.

“Come back to my camp,” Pebble Heart murmured. “Reed Tail can look after WindClan for a while. You can have peace to grieve until you feel strong enough to return to your Clanmates.”

Moth Flight blinked at him, soothed by his amber gaze.

“Will Tall Shadow let me stay?”

“Yes. If I ask her,” Pebble Heart told her.

Wind Runner’s mew sounded at the top of the glade. “Will

Tall Shadow let you stay where?” She hurried down the slope, ears twitching.

“I want Moth Flight to spend some time with ShadowClan,” Pebble Heart told her calmly.

“Why?” Wind Runner bristled. “She should be with her kin.”

Pebble Heart returned her gaze. “She needs to be away from responsibility until she’s strong enough to bear her grief.”

Moth Flight looked at Wind Runner, expecting her mother to argue, but saw worry darken her yellow eyes.

“Is this what you want?” she asked Moth Flight.

Moth Flight nodded, strangely calm. She guessed the thyme must be soothing her. She leaned against Pebble Heart, gratitude washing her pelt.

Pebble Heart dipped his head to Wind Runner. “I’ll take her to my camp.”

Wind Runner shifted her paws. “I’ll send Dust Muzzle to check on her soon.”

“Not too soon,” Pebble Heart told her. “She’ll be in good paws. I’ll take care of her until she’s strong enough to take care of herself.”

Gorse Fur called from the top of the slope. “We should get back to the moor, Wind Runner. The Clan will be unsettled.

They’ll need you.”

Wind Runner touched her nose to Moth Flight’s cheek.

“Take care.”

Moth Flight nodded dumbly as her mother bounded up the slope, and then Pebble Heart began to guide her across the glade. He nudged her gently up the far slope, steering her toward a rabbit trail that cut between the brambles.

With every paw step, grief jabbed at Moth Flight’s heart.

She was walking away. She would never again see Micah in the forest or on the moor. She was leaving him behind, alone beneath the earth.

Pebble Heart led the way into the ShadowClan camp, ducking through a gap in the vast bramble hedge into a wide, pine needle–strewn clearing.

Juniper Branch looked up from a mouse she was gnawing and blinked sympathetically at Moth Flight. The tortoiseshell queen was looking plump, her belly swollen. Her mate, Raven

Pelt, glanced toward Moth Flight, catching her eye before awkwardly snatching his gaze away.

Mouse Ear, sitting on a sun-dappled patch of grass at the edge of the clearing, leaned closer to Mud Paws and murmured into his friend’s ear. “I heard she was in love with the farm cat.”

Moth Flight fixed her gaze ahead. What do you know? She felt unreasonably angry. Micah was dead and these cats would never know him. It wasn’t fair.

“Moth Flight.” Tall Shadow padded from the head of the clearing, her eyes soft with sympathy.

Moth Flight stopped and stared at her paws. “Pebble Heart said I could stay,” she mumbled.

Pebble Heart padded past her and leaned close to the ShadowClan leader. “I thought she’d grieve more easily here, away from anything that will stir memories.”

Everything stirs memories! The sky! The wind! The sun!

Moth Flight braced herself against a fresh wave of grief.

Tall Shadow dipped her head. “Of course you can stay.”

A black tom padded from a small den woven into the camp wall. “Moth Flight?” He padded closer, his ears twitching nervously. “Are you okay? Sparrow Fur brought us the news.

I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known Micah better. Pebble Heart says he had the heart of a Tribe cat and the courage of a Clan cat.”

“Thanks, Sun Shadow.” Moth Flight met his amber gaze. It was a relief to hear someone say Micah’s name. So long as cats spoke of him, he would never be forgotten. “Micah shouldn’t have died.” She flashed a look at Tall Shadow, wondering whether she was like Clear Sky and Wind Runner. Did she value borders more dearly than the lives of cats?

Tall Shadow’s expression was unreadable as she gazed at Sun Shadow. “May Moth Flight have your den?”

“Of course.” Sun Shadow glanced over his shoulder toward the brambles. “Should I fetch some fresh moss for the nest?”

“Don’t bother.” Moth Flight brushed past him. She didn’t care where she lay, just so long as it was away from the prying gaze of the other cats. She ducked into the shadows, relieved to find the den cozy. Its bramble walls encircled a nest woven from pine sprigs. She climbed into it, feeling silky needles beneath her paws. It was surprisingly soft to curl into and she settled deep inside, letting the pine and bramble muffle the murmuring of the cats outside.

“Will she be here long?”

“Why did she come here?”

Then everything fell quiet. Moth Flight imagined that Tall Shadow had silenced her Clanmates with a stare. “She came here for kindness.”

A moment later, Pebble Heart nosed his way into Moth

Flight’s den. He was carrying a leaf bundle in his jaws. As he dropped it beside Moth Flight’s nest, it unfurled to reveal a few tiny poppy seeds. “Dappled Pelt brought these for you. She says they’ll help you rest.”

“She’s here?” Moth Flight peered toward the den entrance.

“She didn’t stay,” Pebble Heart told her. “She says you need peace more than sympathy right now.”

“How did she find me?”

“She was taking these to the moor and met Wind Runner and Gorse Fur.”

Moth Flight felt her heart prick with gratitude for her medicine cat friends. Except Micah isn’t one of us anymore. She closed her eyes, frightened even to think. Each thought seemed to remind her of Micah. She wanted to block out every memory and pretend that he was still alive in the forest, tending to his Clanmates and thinking of her. She leaned over the side of her nest and lapped up the poppy seeds.

Pebble Heart stiffened. “She said just two or three.”

“I want to sleep until the pain stops.” Moth Flight gazed at him wearily.

“I’ll sit with you.”

“No. I need to be alone.”

“Then I’ll check on you in a while.”

Moth Flight tucked her nose onto her paws and closed her eyes. Blackness came as a relief. She flattened her ears, blocking out the calling of the birds overhead and the sound of paw steps outside the den. She wished the darkness would swallow her completely and quench the pain blazing in her heart and scorching deep in her belly.

Her thoughts began to slow as the poppy took hold. She heard Pebble Heart’s fur brush the den entrance as he left, then felt herself drifting into sleep.

She opened her eyes to find herself back at the Moonstone.

No! Not again. Weariness dragged at her bones. Grief weighed in her heart like a stone. I don’t want to dream.

Paw steps brushed rock as two cats entered the cave. A small dark gray she-cat whose brilliant blue eyes sparkled in the gloom, and a flame-pelted tom.

Moth Flight stared at them blankly. She didn’t even try to speak. They’d never hear her. This was just another dream, like the dream of the other blue-gray she-cat, and the dark tom who’d shown such scorn for his ancestors. She glanced up at the hole in the roof, unsurprised to see the edge of the moon nudging into view. In a few moments the Moonstone would light up and the spirit-cats would come. The flame-pelted tom crouched before the Moonstone and touched his nose to it. The gray she-cat stepped away and Moth Flight narrowed her eyes, preparing for the explosion of moonlight.

When it came, she hardly flinched as the light blinded her.

As it faded, she gazed around. Trees had replaced the stone walls of the cave; but this wasn’t ShadowClan’s forest. She was in the Fourtrees clearing. The flame-pelted tom stood at the foot of the great rock, his gray companion hanging back as stars swirled overhead.

Moth Flight watched them whirl against the night sky, spiraling down toward the clearing.

The flame-pelted tom backed away, his pelt bristling with alarm. Didn’t he know that these were the spirit-cats come to share with him?

The stars spun, melting into one another as they neared the ground, until they blazed like white fire.

Moth Flight blinked as cats emerged from the silver flames, their starry pelts more brilliant than ever. As they padded across the clearing, the white fire faded behind them.

The flame-pelted tom blinked at them, his eyes lighting in recognition. He lifted his tail and Moth Flight saw joy warm his gaze.

A golden tom padded forward, his thick fur like a mane around his head.

The flame-pelted tom greeted him. They exchanged words

Moth Flight could not hear. Then the golden tom reached out his starry muzzle and touched the tom’s head.

The tom jerked as though fire seared him.

This is just like the others.

Moth Flight frowned. Why did she keep dreaming this, and always with different cats?

A red bushy-tailed tom approached the flame-pelted cat next, sending another spasm through him as he touched his nose to the tom’s head. Then a beautiful silver-pelted she-cat took his place. A lithe tabby tom followed. His touch set the flame-pelted tom’s fur rippling as though he were running through wind.

Why do I keep seeing this? Moth Flight’s paws itched with frustration. What does it mean?

Four more cats approached, each one’s touch scorching through the tom as though it had sparked lightning. And yet, as each spasm ended, the tom stood stronger, his chin higher.

He met the gaze of the last cat with eyes suddenly misted with emotion.

Moth Flight froze as the pretty tortoiseshell padded closer.

Micah looked at me like that. She recognized love in the tom’s bright green eyes. The tortoiseshell’s amber gaze reflected it back with such intensity that Moth Flight’s breath stopped in her throat.

Grief swamped her. He’s in love with a dead cat! As shock jolted through her, she searched the starry ranks. Was Micah here? Would she have a chance to share such a look with him?

She recognized no cat.

Please come! Why couldn’t she make her dreams do what she wanted? She could only stand by, unheard and unseen, and witness what she could not understand.

It’s not fair!

Her throat tightened as she saw the tortoiseshell stretch her muzzle toward the flame-pelted tom.

He met her gaze, his eyes burning with joy and grief.

Her touch made his pelt glow, as though filling him with moonlight. He leaned in to her, unflinching.

Stop! Moth Flight backed away. She couldn’t bear to watch a moment longer. This all meant nothing! She didn’t know these cats! Why should she care? All she wanted was to see Micah, but she couldn’t!

Hissing, she lashed out a forepaw and slashed through the vision of the tortoiseshell. It was like raking starlit water. The light shattered into countless ripples and faded from view.

A wail welling in her throat, Moth Flight struggled into consciousness. Heart burning with loss, she blinked open her eyes into Sun Shadow’s hollow den.